


Stupid Cupid

by thatsmyverb



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe - Princess Diaries Fusion, F/M, Princess Diaries AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-30
Updated: 2019-03-18
Packaged: 2019-09-02 18:33:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 10,823
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16792432
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thatsmyverb/pseuds/thatsmyverb
Summary: James Potter never wanted to be a stupid prince of a stupid country. All he wanted to do was get through school with his best friend Sirius Black and maybe stop thinking about Lily Evans.





	1. You're Joking

**Author's Note:**

  * For [YouBlitheringIdiot](https://archiveofourown.org/users/YouBlitheringIdiot/gifts), [PetalsToFish](https://archiveofourown.org/users/PetalsToFish/gifts).



> A few things, before we get started.  
> First of all, I've dedicated this work to both Petals and YouBlitheringIdiot, Petals because she is a sweet angel who doesn't deserve any heat and YBI for her undying positivity and encouragement.
> 
> Second of all, I was going to set this in Britain and ended up in setting in Ireland, whoops. There's quite a bit of exposition on how the school works, since it's based on my own school experiences and I know it's quite different from other schools.
> 
> Finally, I want to thank everyone in the Jily Discord for being so perfect xxx

James was still reeling.

His father was sitting in front of him. The look in Fleamont’s eyes told James that he wasn’t joking.

“You’re joking. Right?”

“Of course not James. Do you think I would joke about something like this?”

“Right,” James said faintly. “Right.”

“I know this is a bit of a shock for you-”

“A _bit_?” James, asked, his voice coming back. “A _bit_ of a shock? You’re telling me that I’m a prince, and that in the last seventeen years of my life, you didn’t think to bring it up?”

Fleamont pursed his lips. “Your mother and I wanted you to have a normal life. We weren’t going to tell you until we thought you were old enough.”

“How old is that exactly?”

“Twenty-one? Twenty-five? Whenever we felt you ready.”

There was a pause. “So what changed?”

“The plan was, that when your grandfather stepped down, your mother was to become queen.”

“But?” James prompted.

“Your mother and I met. And we fell in love. But your grandmother never approved. So Euphemia gave up her title and we married.” James gaped. “Your grandfather passed away ten years ago, but your grandmother is still technically the ruling monarch, even though the crown was never passed down through her family.”

“Surely I wasn’t the only one in line for the throne. ‘Cause otherwise you would’ve told me sooner.”

“You have a cousin- well second cousin once removed that is next in line for the throne.”

“So why don’t we just make them ruler? Why involve me at all?”

“Genovia is a small kingdom. A bad ruler would be disastrous and would have fatal consequences.”

“So this cousin of mine isn’t a great person?”

“Your grandmother wouldn’t have asked me otherwise.”

“Wait, _gran_ _ny_ called?”

“How else do you think I know this? Really James, use your brain.”

“So granny called you and was like ‘please tell your son that he is actually a prince and the heir to a _small country_.’”

“It’s not just that,” Fleamont winced. “She’s in town and she wants to have tea.”

“She’s in town and wants to have tea,” James repeated in disbelief. There was a pause. “If she’s in town, why didn’t she just tell me himself.”

“Your grandmother felt it would be best if I told you. She’d been keeping in touch with your mother regularly enough. But ever since your mother passed away, she’s been more distant.”

Euphemia Potter passed away last year after a battle with cancer. It had been hard on Fleamont and James, as well as Sirius Black, who had also been really close with James’s mom.

“Why does granny need to meet with me?”

Fleamont fixed James a stare from behind his glasses. “She can’t be queen forever James. And, like I said, the next in line- or should I say second in line- for the throne is not a pleasant man-”

“You mean...” James’s glasses slid down his nose and he hastily pushed them back up with his knuckle.

“Yes James,” Fleamont said softly.

James abruptly pushed back his chair and left the room. He climbed the stairs into his room, closed the door behind him and collapsed face first onto the bed. A few minutes later, Fleamont entered the room and sat down on the bed beside him.

“I’m sorry James, I really am. I’m sorry that we never told you who you truly are, but I didn’t have much of a choice.”

“Neither do I, do I?” James asked, his voice muffled by the fact that his face was being covered by his duvet.

“What do you mean?”

“I’ll have to become King, won’t I? If this cousin or whatever of mine is such a bad person, I’ll have to assume the throne.”

“You don’t have to do anything James, remember that.”

James sat up. “But I do, don’t I? If this person is so bad, that my grandmother contacted me for the first time in _seventeen_ years, he must be some piece of work.”

Fleamont sighed sadly. “I wish there was a better way. And I’m really sorry.”

James sighed as well. “It’s not your fault dad.”

Fleamont patted his son’s knee and got up to leave. He knew his son well enough to know that James needed some time to himself to think.

 _There better not be any more surprises_ , James thought, as he lay back down on his bed.

* * *

The next day, there was another surprise waiting outside for him.

James had been upstairs tying his black, grey and white striped tie when the doorbell rang. Frowning, James headed down to the door, tie still in the process of being tied. He opened the door and pulled back slightly.

Outside, there was a man who couldn’t have been any older than James himself. He had bright blue eyes and a mop of sandy hair that was curlier than James’s wavy mess. He was almost as tall as James- which was a feat in itself- and he had an easy smile on his face.

But it wasn’t the man that had surprised James. It was the limo behind him.

“Hello,” the man said pleasantly, though his lips were twitching at James’s expression. “I’m assuming you’re James Potter.” James only nodded, still in shock. “Well, Your Highness. This limo has been sent over to you on the behalf of Her Majesty as a gift.”

“Don’t call me that,” James’s voice came out scratchy, as if he hadn’t used it in a while.

“Of course,” the man said, lips twitching again. “I’m Remus Lupin. Could I have a word with you and your dad?”

James nodded, before turning to shout down the hall “dad!”

A few seconds later, a door opened to the left and Fleamont came out into the hall, and this time it was Remus that did a double take. They got that a lot.

James and his dad were almost carbon copies of each other, other than Fleamont’s more advanced age. They both had the same messy, black hair- though James’s was significantly messier and his dad was going grey. They also shared their warm, hazel eyes, stature and even glasses shape (rounded wire-rimmed that they both somehow managed to pull off). The only other difference was the fact that James had inherited his mother’s long, thin nose.

Remus recovered marvellously and held his hand out to shake Fleamont’s. “Good morning Mr. Potter, my name is Remus Lupin. Her Majesty has sent me over to discuss some things about your son’s safety.

“Yes, of course, come in.”

They sat down at the kitchen, James putting the kettle on out of habit. As he was pulling out the mugs, Fleamont and Remus got started on the arrangements.

“Her Majesty wants James to be driven to and from school as well as anywhere he goes.”

“Tea or coffee?” James interrupted, looking at Remus.

“Tea, please,” Remus replied, before continuing his point. “She also wants him to be accompanied by a bodyguard whenever possible.!

“Right...” Fleamont said slowly, thinking this over in his head.

“Why now?” James asked, setting down two mugs of tea for his dad and for Remus.

“I’m sorry?” Remus asked, visibly confused.

“Why is my grandmother so concerned for my safety _now_? The only thing that has changed is the fact that I know now. It’s not like my new-found knowledge of my own importance will automatically put me in danger.”

Remus raised an eyebrow, impressed by James’s apparent cleverness. “You make a good point, but I think if Her Majesty had her way, you’d have always had a protection detail.”

James didn’t have a reply to that. “Who will be my bodyguard?”

“Me,” Remus said with a wry smile.

“How old are you exactly?” James asked incredulously.

“James!” Fleamont said.

“I assure you, sir, I am 100% qualified,” Remus said with a wry smile.

“Will you be going to school with me?”

“No. Her Majesty thinks that a new guy who just happens to share all classes with you and know you, despite being new, will draw some attention, if only from your best friends. And, as you said, the new-found knowledge of your own importance doesn’t automatically put you in danger.”

“Okay,” James said, still hesitant about arriving to school in a limo and having a bodyguard.

“Is there any chance we could continue this conversation another time? James is going to be late to school,” Fleamont interjected.

James glanced down at the watch his mother had left for him. She had originally planned on giving it to him on his seventeenth birthday, since that was when she had received it herself. She never made it to his seventeenth birthday. James noted the time and jumped out of his seat, his decaf coffee only half drank. He bounded up the stairs, taking them two at a time. He dashed into his bedroom, snatched up his bag from the floor and grabbed his jumper from where it was thrown on the bed.

James was not a huge fan of his school uniform. Their school pants were dark grey while their jumper was a lighter shade. They wore white shirts and a black, grey and white striped tie. They also had to wear black, leather shoes, though most people got away with black converse or vans. James didn’t know why he had gotten away with his converse. Most people who wore black converse wore the all black ones, whereas his were the original with the white tips and rim. He liked to think that the teachers had a soft spot for him, but it was more likely that they didn’t care.

He sprinted back down the stairs, jumping the last few and landing with the appearance of someone who had done this particular habit on a regular basis.

“Ready?” Remus asked, amused. James nodded, a slight blush on his cheeks.

* * *

School was interesting, to say the least.

In most ways, it was the same. In some ways- mostly in James’s own head- it was different. James had made Remus let him out a street away from the school, so as not to cause a riot with their hearse. He was glad that Sirius had told him he was going to walk to school with his brother. First of all, it gave James more time to create an excuse for the limo. And secondly, James was happy that Sirius and Regulus were getting along a bit better.

Since James had gotten a lift to school, and Sirius was walking, James arrived to school earlier than his best friend. He headed to his locker, eager to lift some of the weight from his bag. James, being one of the tallest people in the school had a top locker. Lockers lined the wall in bunches, four to a column, rows depending on how much space there was.

He pulled the key out of his pocket, manoeuvring it so his coins, mp3 player and earphones didn’t fall out of his pocket. He twisted the lock off of his locket handle and looped it around his pants buckle, before setting his bag on the floor and kneeling next to it.

He pulled the books out of his locker that he did not need for his next two classes. His school had two 56 minute classes, small break, two more 56 minutes classes, big break and two final 56 minute classes. They had originally had 55 minute classes, but in order to squeeze an extra half hour of school a week, and therefore get holidays earlier, the teachers had gotten rid of the six minute tutorial in the morning and added an extra minute to each class.

Tutorial was basically a six minute roll call, where each base class was assigned a room where they could take the official morning roll. It also allowed year heads to check notes and uniforms and allowed James six minutes to cram in the German vocab study that he never did the night before, on the two days James had German first class.

Today was not one of those days, as he had music and maths first two classes. Which was quite nice, considering they were two of his favourite classes. He swapped out most of the books in his bag for some of those in his lockers, shutting it and twisting the handle before locking it again.

He turned around and ended up face to face with Lily Evans. Well, it wasn’t exactly face to face, considering their height difference, but it was close enough. Too close.

James swallowed, but grinned at her. “Sorry Evans, I didn’t realise I was in your way."

“It’s fine,” Lily replied offhandedly, moving towards her locker, once James had stepped to the side. James tore his eyes away from her and turned to head to music when Lily stopped him. “Will you give this to Marlene please?”

Marlene McKinnon was one of Lily’s best friends and was also in James’s music class. They were friendly enough, and she was a bit of a laugh, and an expert on the piano.

James took the copy from Lily’s hand and glanced down at it. On the cover was Lily’s name, printed neatly as well as her class, 5A6 and subject title, Geography homework. Instantly, James copped on to what was happening.

“Cheating on homework, are we now, Evans?”

Lily rolled her eyes at James. “What? Are you going to rat on me?”

James laughed at that, and bid Lily goodbye, before heading off towards music, copy in hand.


	2. Spaced Out

James sat down next to Sirius in the back row of their maths class, his head still swimming with musical melodies.

“Hey mate,” Sirius greeted him as soon as he sat down.

“Hey,” James said tiredly, dropping his head onto his arms, which were folded on his table. “How was Reg?”

“Reg was Reg,” Sirius said offhandedly.

At this, James sat upright and studied his friend. “Do you want to talk about it?” he asked.

Sirius shrugged. “Not right now, maybe later.” James nodded. It was better than the straight-up ‘no’ he used to receive. He looked his friend up and down once more, before putting his head back on the table. “How was music?” Sirius asked a second later, as their teacher had yet to arrive.

James lifted his head up off the table, and leaned back in his seat. “It was fine. Didn’t get much homework, so that was good. How was woodwork?”

“So funny. Snape completely messed up his sanding, so his surface is now uneven. Sir was not happy.”

James frowned at the mention of Severus Snape, but didn’t say anything. Luckily, Ms. McGonagall came in, so he didn’t have to.

“Take out your homework, please, so we can correct it, before jumping back in to trinomials,” she said in her no nonsense Scottish accent.

James slowly reached into his bag and pulled out his copy and pencil case. After the revelation yesterday, he hadn’t got much sleep, so he was feeling physically drained. On top of that, the new information was messing with his mind and he was finding it difficult to concentrate. He went through the mechanical actions of correcting his homework, fixing mistakes if he had any.

He liked maths. It came easy to him and- he’d never tell Sirius this, not if he wanted to keep his dignity- he found it relaxing. He liked numbers; they were dependable. Much more dependable than his grandmother, he thought, rather darkly.

“James!” he heard through the haze over his mind. He refocused his mind on the teacher in front of him, who was looking at him impatiently.

“Sorry Miss. I lost concentration for a second.”

“I’ll say,” Ms. McGonagall said, still looking slightly put out. James was one of her best students, and he rarely lost focus in her class. She took in the dark circles under his eyes, half hidden by his glasses, and took pity on him. “I was asking you what answer you got for question five.”

“Uh,”James stared down at his page, before looking back up at the teacher. “I got twenty-nine point one three eight.”

“Correct,” Miss said with a slight smile. She continued to go around the class for answers, and James could feel himself slipping out of focus again. He made a conscious effort to concentrate for the rest of class. It worked,- mostly- but there was times where he could feel himself losing focus again.

* * *

At lunch, he sat down in the Canteen with Sirius and checked his phone. The was a text from his dad and as he read it, James could feel himself getting frustrated.

 **Dad:** Your grandmother wants you to meet her after school

 **James:** But I was going to walk home with Sirius

 **Dad:** I know, but there’s nothing I can do

 **James:** He walked to school with Regulus this morning

James knew that his dad would get what he was trying to say in that text. It meant that Sirius needed to talk to _someone_ about his situation. It was better than bottling it all up and letting it build up. James knew that and he knew his dad did as well.

 **Dad:** I know, and I’m really sorry, but I can’t do anything about it. You know what this is about

James sighed, frowning down at his phone which drew the attention of his best friend. “Something wrong mate?” Sirius asked.

“Dad says my granny is over from Europe and that I have to come straight home after school to visit her.”

“I thought your granny was dead?” Sirius asked. One thing James liked a lot about Sirius, was that he never beat around the bush.

“Other granny, mom’s mom.”

Sirius’s mouth formed a perfect ‘o’ shape. “I thought she wanted nothing to do with your family?”

“So did I. I’ve never met her. But she flew to Ireland to meet me and dad says I have to go. So I won’t be able to go down town and walk home with you.”

“That’s grand. We can just do it tomorrow.”

“I’m sorry,” James said apologetically.

“It’s not your fault,” Sirius answered logically. “You can’t control your crazy family.”

“Any more than you can control yours,” James said hesitantly, hoping it might prod his friend into talking.

Sirius seemed to be thinking, biting his lip in the process- a habit he picked up from James. After a few seconds, Sirius made up his mind. “I told Reg that I was thinking of moving in with you and Monty,” Sirius confessed, staring across the table at James.

James inhaled sharply. “How did he take it?”

“Not well,” Sirius answered, staring down at the table. “He accused me of abandoning him. Said I was ‘some brother’.”

Sirius Black rarely cried, but James could tell that his best friend was hurt by the words his brother had said. “Reg could come as well, if he wanted. You know dad understands. Reg could live with us as well, I’ve told you that before.”

Sirius shook his head. “I told Reg that. He won’t come with me if I go. He’d rather stay in _that house_. I think he’s too scared to leave. He has the guts to call me a coward then, as if I’m jumping ship out of fear.” Sirius scoffed, but it wasn’t very convincing.

“Sirius,” James said quietly, but in his tone that Sirius called his ‘leader voice’. It was slightly commanding, but also gentle- according to Sirius, who was known to be a dramatic prat. “If Regulus refuses to come with you and you leave, you are not abandoning Regulus. He is abandoning you. You are offering him a safe home with you and he isn’t taking it. You are absolutely 100% _not_ to blame, okay? And don’t feel guilty if you get out of that house and move in with us- you matter just as much as Regulus does.”

“Okay, calm down,” Sirius said laughing. But James could tell that he appreciated the pep talk. James laughed too, before lowering his voice again.

“I’m serious though-”

“No, I’m Sirius,” Sirius interrupted.

James shot him a lot. “I’m serious. You can move in with dad and me whenever you want. And you can bring Reg with you if he decides-”

“What are you lot whispering about?” Marlene McKinnon asked, sliding into the seat next to James.

“Just picking out our next target,” James lied easily. “It’s a very selective system.”

“Ah,” Marlene replied, nodding wisely. “What are you planning next?”

“If we told you that, we’d have to kill you,” James said, very seriously. Marlene laughed, despite the line being slightly cheesy.

“So, where are the rest of your girls?” Sirius asked, acting out looking around with exaggeration.

“Lily’s at her locker and the rest are in the bathroom. The queue goes on forever though, so I couldn’t be bothered to stand in line since I don’t even need to go.”

“And instead you decide to bother us instead,” James said with a fake sigh.

“You’re so hilarious James Potter,” Marlene answered, deadpanned, “did you know that?”

“I did not that, as a matter of fact,” James answered with a cheeky grin.

“James actually knowing something? Shocker,” a new voice said teasingly. James glanced up to see Lily Evans plant herself into the seat next to Sirius.

“Comedic gold right there Evans,” he replied sarcastically, hand jumping to his hair. “Honestly blessed to have a comedian in our presence.”

Lily, rather childishly, stuck her tongue out at James, but didn’t dignify his jest with a response. “What’s going on here?” she asked instead.

“Didn’t feel like queuing with the girls, takes too much time,” Marlene explained. Lily nodded, understanding immediately. “Decided to join James and Sirius, who were deep in thought plotting a new prank.”

“I should report you for rule breaking,” Lily joked, looking at the boys.

“Ooooo,” Marlene taunted, grinning at them.

“Then I could report you two for copying each other’s homework,” James answered, a smug smile on his face.

“Ooooo,” Sirius said, mimicking Marlene. The group laughed and moved on to talk about other topics, such as how awful their English- the one class they all shared- teacher was.

“It’s going to take about fifty years for me to do this homework. _And_ it’s due _tomorrow_ ,” James said, scandalised. The others all sighed at the thought of the mountain of homework they had been given. “And who knows what time I’ll be free tonight,” he added, almost as an afterthought.

“What’s happening tonight?” Marlene asked, frowning as if she had forgotten something.

“My granny is over today, so I’ll have to spend some time with her.”

“Have to?” Lily asked. “Do you not like her?”

“It’s not like that,” James said hurriedly. “I just don’t know her that well.”

Across the table, Sirius snorted and muttered something that sounded suspiciously like “that’s an understatement” under his breath. James aimed a glare and a kick at him, warning him to be quiet.

“James, did we get music homework? I wasn’t paying attention,” Marlene asked, changing the topic.

“Just study and learn the set work we did in class,” James told her.

Marlene snorted. “As if I’m actually going to do that.”

“Honestly same,” James said. “Seems like a lot of effort.”

“Are they not part of you Leaving Cert exam course?” Lily asked, eyebrows knitted together.

“Yeah, and?” James and Marlene asked at the same time.

“So shouldn’t you learn them?” Sirius asked.

James, Lily and Marlene stared at him. “Padfoot, you never study,” James pointed out.

“Yeah, but you like to well in classes and tests and all that crap,” Sirius replied. “Usually you’d study, or whatever.”

“The Leaving Cert is not for another year and a half. I can’t be arsed to learn it now. I’ll probably just cram it in before the class test.”

“What class test?” Marlene asked, suddenly panicked.

“Jesus Marlene, you should really start paying attention in class,” James replied.

“Music is the first class on a Monday morning,” Marlene answered, as if that explained everything. It kind of did.

“Fair,” Sirius responded.

* * *

That afternoon, James walked alone. Sirius was taking another shot at persuading Regulus and James needed to make it to his grandmother’s house without Sirius asking questions. He had the address typed into Maps, but it was a lot farther away then he had imagined when he convinced his dad that he didn’t need to send for Remus.

By the time he arrived at the Genovian Embassy, he was running seriously late. He sprinted across the grass, almost getting a heart attack when a disembodied voice began shouting ‘get off the grass’ in various languages, only two of which he spoke.

James skidded to a halt inside the lobby where a disapproving receptionist informed him that he was late. He was then brought into a large room, that had a table, two chairs and not much else. Despite the insistence to sit, James remained standing, hands clasped behind his back as he stared at the photos on the way. Apart from the few that featured pears, the other paintings were clearly paintings of the royal family, dating back God-knows-when. James’s eyes stopped on an all-too-familiar woman and his breath hitched in his throat.

 _His mother._ Euphemia had been painted standing next to a throne, her hand resting gently on the top corner of the back. She was wearing a floor-length, pale pink dress and a small tiara was sat upon her hair, which had been styled back from her face.

“She would’ve made a great queen,” a quiet voice said from behind James. He swung around and saw an elder woman watching him from the door opposite the one he had come through. “Just like you will be a great king.”


	3. Queen

“Hello James,” his grandmother smiled.

“Hello,” James breathed, staring slightly. In front of him was a real, proper _queen_ and she was his _grandmother_. She gestured for him to sit down and, unlike the previous time, he did.

“Over the next while you and I are going to get to know each other very well. So, first things first; introductions. My name is Queen Clarisse Renaldi but my full name is Queen Regina Clarisse Marie Renaldi.”

“Does that mean my full name is not James Fleamont Potter?” James asked, almost afraid of the answer.

“Your full name is James Fleamont Darryl Potter-Renaldi, Prince of Genovia.”

“Right,” James said, feeling a little faint. He pulled the sleeve ends of his jumper over his palms and fiddled with his glasses, as he often did when he was nervous.

“I know this is a big shock for you,” his grandmother said gently. “And I’m sorry. But your mother and I really felt we were protecting you by keeping this from you. But then your cousin revealed his true nature and I would rather die then subject my people to a ruler as horrible and as oppressive as he was bound to be.”

James nodded. “I understand that. It’ll just take a while for me to come to terms with it.”

“Thank you,” she said softly, looking him directly in the eyes, before straightening up. “Now, there is someone I’d like you to meet.”

“If it’s your limo driver, I’ve already met him,” James joked.

“Not Remus Lupin,” Clarisse said as a young man came through the door to James’s right. “This is Frank Longbottom. He is my personal secretary and will be assisting me today in my evaluation.”

“What evaluation?”

“Evaluation of what?” James asked frowning.

“Evaluation of you,” Frank spoke up, a cheeky grin upon his features.

Queen Clarisse stood up and James followed suit. Frank took an electrical pad out of seemingly nowhere and began taking notes. Frank immediately starting tapping at his pad when Clarisse spoke.

“Good height,” Clarisse began listing. “Posture could do with a little work.” Immediately, James straightened his back, earning a small tinkling laugh from his grandmother. “Eyes, very nice. Hidden behind glasses, however. Nose... like his mother’s,” she continued, smiling softly. James’s hand briefly touched against the end of his nose. “Hair needs to be tamed,” she added. James’s hand jumped up to ruffle his hair. “We’ll have to get Pierre in to fix it.”

Behind the queen, Frank Longbottom could be seen smothering a laugh into his hand at James’s petulant pout.

“I’m sure it’s charming dear,” Clarisse told him, “but it will not do for a prince. We’ll have to get you fitted for clothes as well, and a crown.”

“A crown?” James spluttered.

“Well yes dear. You are to become King James Renaldi once you turn twenty-one. What king doesn’t have a crown?” James just swallowed. “In terms of etiquette, I’ll be teaching you myself, and I’ll also be teaching you languages, art, culture, history, politics. You have a lot to learn James, and you’re starting seventeen years later than most other royals that are your age.”

“But I’m seventeen,” James said frowning. Clarisse just gave him a look.

“You have to come here to the embassy straight after school every day. Weekends you’ll have off to study or do whatever else seventeen year olds do. Unless we have an emergency.”

“ _Every single day?_ ” James asked, flabbergasted.

“Yes. It’s important that we catch you up on everything you’ve been missing. You’re going to be ruling a country in less than four years. You have to be able to rule the country _well_.”

“But what about school, and homework, and my _friends_? How am I supposed to hel- hang out with Sirius if I’m not even _home_?”

“Sacrifices James. We all have to make sacrifices. But the fate of an entire country is more important than your friend Sirius.” James’s face hardened at this but he kept his mouth shut. “One more thing- you are not to tell anyone about this.”

“Really?” James asked sarcastically. “And here I was thinking I could just tell whoever I wanted.”

“We’ll work on that attitude the next day. I have something I want to give you.” Frank Longbottom rushed forwards with a small black box. “It was your mother’s,” Clarisse went on, voice significantly softer. “Upon my request, your father gave it to me after her passing, but now I see it would be better for you to have it.”

James took the box cautiously, and opened the lid. Inside was a plain gold band that James would recognise anywhere. “Her wedding ring,” he breathed. Clarisse nodded, not saying anything. Slowly, James pried the ring out of its place, and was surprised to that it had been strung on a plain silver chain.

The ring, like most wedding bands, was a plain gold, quite different to the engagement ring she wore on the same finger. The engagement ring stayed on the dresser in James’s dad’s room. Sometimes, when James was feeling particularly sad, he’d go into his dad’s room and pop open the box, just to stare at the ring.

But he hadn’t seen the wedding ring and assumed that she had been buried with it. He closed the box and began clasping the necklace around his neck. The chain was long enough that it didn’t show around his neck, meaning he could wear it to school and not have anyone know. “Thank you,” James said quietly, fiddling with the ring. He placed the small black box carefully into his bag and turned back to his grandmother.

“You’re quite welcome. But for now, you’re free to go.”

“Thank you, thank you, thank you,” James said as he scooped up his bag and practically sprinted out the door. “See you tomorrow.”

“What do you think Frank?” Clarisse asked her secretary.

“I’d say he’ll be alright.”

“How was it?” Fleamont asked later that evening while they were eating.

“Not good,” James replied, staring down at his plate.

“What happened?” Fleamont asked gently.

“She says she wants me to come in every day after school. How am I supposed to help him if I’m never here? And what if he moves in? He’s going to notice that I never walk home with him after school and that I disappear for God-knows-how long _every day_?” James burst out.

“We’ll cross that bridge when it comes to it,” Fleamont said. “We don’t even know if he’ll move in yet.”

James’s head shot up and he stared his dad in the eyes. “He’ll have to, won’t he?” James said quietly. “And even if he doesn’t, he’ll get suspicious when I can never hang out with him after school.”

“I’ll talk to Clarisse if you want,” Fleamont offered, examining his son very carefully.

“Oh no, that’s okay dad. I know that you don’t exactly-”

“Just because she disapproved of me for Euphemia, doesn’t mean she hates me. And it doesn’t mean I hate her. I’ll talk to her.”

“Okay. Thanks dad,” James said, relieved. Fleamont just smiled and went back to eating his dinner.

That night, James had trouble focusing on his homework. If he could just rewind time, to last year, before his mom had died. And then just froze everything. That was where he wanted to be, not in this weird ‘don’t really know who I am or what I’m supposed to do know’ period. Thinking about his mother, he went back to his homework. She had only ever wanted what’s best for him and she wanted him to do the best that he could do; both of his parents had. But they never pushed him. James knew he had been given the best parents he could’ve asked for.

That train of thought led him to Sirius. James didn’t know what he would do if Sirius decided to continue living with the rest of his family. If ‘family’ was the word one could use to describe the Blacks. Every time James thought about the marks on Sirius’s skin or the way his best friend’s voice shook that day when he told James-

He forced himself not to think about that, breathing slowly and unclenching his fists. If James had his way, both Sirius _and_ Regulus would be living with him _right now_. James reached for his phone, fingers skittering across the screen.

**Prongs:** you okay mate?

 **Padfoot:** im fine

 **Prongs:** how did it go?

 **Padfoot:** reg wont budge

 **Prongs:** sorry. Don’t forget what I said today

 **Padfoot:** i wont. thank you

 **Prongs:** I’m seriously

 **Padfoot:** no i am

 **Prongs:** hilarious

 **Padfoot:** thanks, i know i am

 **Prongs:** I’m fairly sure that the sarcasm was evident

 **Padfoot:** i know, but i chose to ignore it

how was your meeting with your grandmother today?

 **Prongs:** it was a bit weird, but sort of okay?

she gave me a present, which was really generous of her

 **Padfoot:** ooo what did she get you?

 **Prongs:** she gave me mum’s wedding ring

 **Padfoot:** did monty not have it?

 **Prongs:** nah, dad had mum’s engagement ring, but not this one

 **Padfoot:** that was nice

 **Prongs:** yeah

 **Padfoot:** i have to go

see you tomorrow, yeah?

James found it really hard to fall asleep that night. He knew that being a prince was going to be a lot of work. And he knew that meant sacrifices, but he just wished one of those sacrifices hadn’t included time with Sirius.

It was hard enough keeping his ‘other life’ from the rest of the population. He _hated_ keeping secrets from Sirius. They were practically brothers and James had never kept anything this big from Sirius before. He didn’t even know _how_ to keep a secret this big from Sirius. James rolled over on his mattress and thought about his mother instead.

One thing James was finding hardest to wrap his head around was the fact that his mother had this whole other _thing_ going on and she never mentioned it. James had rarely ever heard his mother talk about his grandmother, even though they were speaking to each other fairly regularly.

Euphemia used to tell James bedtimes stories about Genovia- always in French, the language they always spoke to each other- and her childhood, but she had never once mentioned the fact that she was a _princess_. In fact, she never really said that Genovia had a monarchy, except in passing. All James knew about the monarchy was that they had ruled for generations, they didn’t tax their citizens, that the monarchy was well-liked and that their main intake of money was through tourists.

According to Euphemia, Genovia, while small, was a beautiful country that Euphemia had often described in colourful detail late at night. It had been a while since James had thought about his mother’s stories of her home country. Once he had gotten older, she hadn’t come in as often as she used to. Sometimes he’d be out late with Sirius, or up late with homework.

But they always spoke French to each other. They always had, since James was able to speak, he had spoken French to his mother, whose first language was French. Sometimes even his _father_ would speak in French- not a lot, just a few words or sentences here and there- but it was something his family did. James still spoke French to himself when he was talking to himself (as one does), if only to ensure he never loses his mother’s language.

When he was in first year, he chose German as his language for two reasons. The first was so people wouldn’t find out that he was fluent in French. It wasn’t that he was ashamed or anything. In fact, he was quite proud of the fact that he was bilingual. He just didn’t want to make a big deal out of it. The other reason was because he wanted to learn another language, so taking French wouldn’t help. After his mother passed, he kind of regretted that decision. He quite liked German, but he had been scared that one day he would lose his French if he didn’t speak it regularly enough.

But now he was the prince of a French-speaking principality.

He was a _prince_. James groaned and planted his face into his pillow.


	4. Goddamn Luck

James liked history. History had always been interesting to him, from exciting wars, to not-as-exciting agricultural and industrial revolutions. Irish history, in particular, was fascinating to him. With its many rebellions, risings and wars, as well as the moral ambiguity of its heroes, he _liked_ history.

He did not like his history teacher.

Mr. O’ Moore wasn’t his favourite, and James wasn’t a favourite of Mr. O’ Moore. Which didn’t make sense in James’s head, because Mr. O’ Moore actually deserved to be disliked, whereas James didn’t. (James admitted that he might be a bit biased.)

So for the most part, James sat in the back corner of the classroom with Dorcas Meadowes and tried not to die of boredom. The only thing that kept him from succumbing to sleep altogether was Dorcas’s snarky comments.

Most people viewed Dorcas as a sort of quiet, smart girl. And that was true. But most people didn’t realise that she also had a wicked sense of humour. She was the sort of person who could give a running commentary on _paint drying_ and have you in stitches. So her apparent dislike of Mr. O’ Moore was a constant source of amusement to James.

One of his favourite inside jokes was one the simplest. Mr. O’ Moore had a habit of setting them work and then disappearing out of the classroom for a few minutes, before returning with no explanation for his absence. So it was customary for James or Dorcas, whichever noticed first, to say “gone again” whenever he disappeared. It was stupid, James knew, to find something like that so funny, but it was all in the delivery. They often counted how many times Mr. O’ Moore left in a class. The record so far was eight, had been particularly funny lesson. So, yeah, James had conflicting emotions about history class.

* * *

Dorcas let out a quiet “Jesus” from beside him, causing James to look up. A load of other fifth years were standing at the top of the classroom, looking around uncertainly.

“They’re not in our history class,” James said with a frown.

“Well, er ah nah,” Dorcas said sarcastically.

“Shut it Dork.”

“Should we tell them it’s a bit too late to be switching option blocks?” Dorcas asked, referring to first year, when you could change the classes you had chosen. Sirius, for example, had originally been in their history class, but couldn’t handle Mr. O’ Moore for more than a week, so he moved to Home Economics.

“I dare you to,” James said, smirking at Dorcas.

“Oi, lads!” Dorcas raised her voice, after making sure that Mr. O’ Moore hadn’t come back yet. “You know it’s a bit late to be switching blocks?”

“Hilarious Cas,” a voice spoke out from the group of lost fifth years.

“Thanks,” Dorcas replied, smiling cheekily.

“Was that Evans?” James asked, frown deepening. Dorcas nodded, but before she had time to reply, Mr. O’ Moore came back into the room, this time accompanied by Ms. Keelty, a geography and English teacher.

“Listen up fifth years,” Mr. O’ Moore. “Ms. Keelty and I have decided to join our higher level history and geography classes for a project. You will be paired into twos, one from each class, and do a project on a country that most people won’t know much about, which we will also assign.”

James and Dorcas glanced at each other excitedly. Anything to get away from Mr. O’ Moore was a good thing in their books. Ms. Keelty- a much nicer teacher than Mr. O’ Moore- began pairing up students, reading from a list in her hand.

She was about halfway through her list before she got to James’s name. “James Potter and Lily Evans. Lily, you can go down and join James in the back there.” Dorcas had already been paired with Frank Longbottom, so the seat next to James was free.

When Ms. Keelty was finished her list, James looked around the classroom. He hadn’t thought they’d have enough tables for both classes, but he never really realise how big the classrooms were. “What country do you think we’ll get?” Lily asked from beside him.

James snorted. “With Mr. O’ Moore in charge? Probably the worst one there is.”

“He doesn’t like you?” Lily asked, eyebrow raised slightly.

“He doesn’t like anyone, but I am pretty high up his list,” James admitted.

“What did you do?” Lily asked, smiling now.

“Nothing,” James protested. “Sirius was in this class but moved to Home Ec., and for some reason he decided to take it out on me.”

“That’s a bit...” Lily trailed off.

“Crappy?” James asked, nodding in reply.

At the point, Ms. Keetly was in front of them. “Hey James and Lily. How are ye?”

“I’m good, how are you miss?” James asked politely.

“I’m good. You’re country for the project is Genovia,” she said, before moving on to the pair next to them.

James froze. Just his luck. Just his absolute luck. To be paired up with Lily Evans and to have to do a project with her on the country he was to rule one day. Just his damn luck.

“Genovia?” Lily repeated from next to him. “Do you know where that is?”

James nodded slowly. “It’s in Europe.”

“Really? Where is it?”

“It’s between Italy and France.”

“I’ve never heard of it. That’s so strange.”

“And here I was thinking you were the geography student,” James teased, trying not to show his shock, all the while panicking inside.

“Shut up. How do you even know about it?”

“My mom was from Genovia,” James answered, looking over at her, panic hopefully hidden.

“Really? What’s it like?”

“I’ve never actually been there,” James admitted. “But I think I might be going soon.”

“Lucky. Do you know much about it?” Lily asked, opening up her notebook.

“Not a huge amount. They speak French. They have a ruling monarchy. They don’t tax their people, I don’t think, and they mainly get their money from tourism.” Lily nodded, taking down what he was saying. “Oh, and their national fruit is the pear,” he added.

“National fruit?” Lily asked, pausing her writing. James just shrugged in response.

“I’d double check that information if I were you though,” James said.

Lily grinned. “I have you on Snapchat, right?” When James nodded she continued. “We can text each other on that for the project. That suit?”

“That’s perfect,” James smiled. Just then, as if waiting for them to finish their conversation, the bell rang, signalling the end of history and the start of big lunch. James scrambled to shove all of his books into his bag, including the hardback that contained his discarded essay that he had stopped working on as soon as Mr. O’ Moore had left the room.

“My students, finish the essay for homework,” Mr. O’ Moore called out as they left the classroom. Most of the history students, James and Dorcas included, groaned at this. James walked down the corridor with them, splitting off to go to his locker. He needed to switch out books for his last two classes. He unlocked his locker and pulled out his Irish and maths books before bending down at his bag. He swapped them for his history and German books and straightened up. It was then that he became aware of the person standing behind him.

James swung around and saw Severus Snape standing way too close to James, with a disgusted look on his face. When Snape didn’t say anything, James turned back around, shoved his books into his locker and closed it was a clang. He twisted the handle and hooked his lock back onto it. He turned and saw Snape still standing there, with the same look on his face. But he didn’t saw anything. When James made to move around him, Snape stepped as well to block him.

“What do you want Snape?” James asked frustrated. In general, he avoided Snape because he wasn’t in the mood for confrontation. In first or second year, they had always been at odds with one another, but when James reached third year, he put his head down for the Junior Cert and left Snape alone. And he had been surprised at how much better his day were when he didn’t have to interact with Snape. Didn’t mean he liked him any more than he had when they were thirteen. And if Snape had a problem with Sirius, he could bring it up with Sirius.

“I want you to leave Lily alone,” Snape said, eyes narrowing.

“Evans? What are you on about?” James asked, growing even more confused.

“You know exactly what I’m on about. Leave her alone.”

“First of all, you and Lily are no longer friends. She made that pretty clear last year. Second of all, I have _no idea_ what you’re on about. And frankly, I don’t really _want_ to know.”

“Piss off Potter,” Snape spat.

“ _You_ were the one who came to _me_!” James said incredulously. “ _You_ were the one who threatened _me_. Not the other way around.”

“Whatever,” Snape said, before turning and skulking away. James stared after him, not quite sure what to think or do. James made his way down the canteen’s singular, long table to his usual place. Sirius was already sitting there, waiting for James.

“What was that about?” Sirius asked, gesturing in the direction of James’s locker.

“I have no idea,” James replied, still frowning in confusion.

“What did he say to you?”

“He warned me to stay away from Lily.”

“Evans?” Sirius confirmed. When James nodded, Sirius whistled. “She’s not going to like that. I think the whole of TY heard their fight.”

“Everyone knows they’re not friends any more. And why is he warning me to stay away from her? As far as I know, I haven’t done anything to upset her and while we’re friends enough, we don’t talk a whole lot.”

“No matter how much you might wish,” Sirius smirked.

James blushed, hand jumping his hair. “Shut up.”

“What? I’m only telling the truth. You do like her.”

“I think she’s smart and pretty, yeah. But I don’t know her well enough to like her like that.”

“You’ll have plenty of time to get to know her now that you’re paired up together for that project,” Sirius answered, wiggling his eyebrows.

“How do you even know about that? It was the end of last class.”

“Marlene told me.”

“When? And how does she know?”

“Just there, while Snape was attempting to be a brat. And she’s friends with Lily and Dorcas, so it’s not a huge surprise that she knows.”

“I suppose,” James shrugged. There was a pause. “God, I hate Snape,” James said angrily.

“Same. He’s such a creep. Like, who goes up to guy and warns him to stay away from a girl that he’s no longer even friends with?”

“Right? And you know that I don’t really like to dislike people-”

“Except for teachers,” Sirius put in.

“Well yeah,” James conceded. “But apart from teachers, I try and get along with most people, cause I can’t be bothered deal with drama. But he just makes my blood boil.”

“Whose blood are we boiling?” Mary MacDonald asked, sitting down next to them. Lily, Marlene, Dorcas and Hestia, who were all with her, followed suit. It wasn’t uncommon for them to sometimes join James and Sirius at the table.

“Severus Snape’s,” Sirius said bitterly.

Instantly the five girls all made a groaning sort of nose. “What did he do now?” Hestia asked sympathetically.

“Threatened James,” Sirius answered, scandalised. James stared down at the table and tried not to catch the anyone’s eyes.

“Why?” Dorcas asked.

“Cause he’s a prat,” Sirius answered.

“But what did he say?” Marlene pushed.

Sirius hesitated. “I’d rather not say.”

“Why?” Mary asked. All five girls leaned it, even more interested. Sirius stared helplessly at James who shrugged in response.

“You’re not going to like it,” Sirius warned.

“Jesus Black, just spit it out,” Lily said impatiently.

“He warned me to stay away from you,” James said quietly, meeting Lily’s eyes across the table.


	5. Pierre

“What?” the girls asked, confused.

“He came up to me when I was at my locker and told me to stay away from Lily,” James said, staring down at the table again.

“I swear to God, that eejit,” Marlene began angrily, half rising from the table, before Lily’s hand stopped her.

“Leave it Marls,” Lily said softly.

“But Lily-”

“I know. And I’m angry too, but I’d rather not talk to him at all at this stage.”

“Okay,” Marlene relented. “If you’re sure.”

“I’m sure,” Lily smiled. “But thanks.”

“Are we still on for today?” Sirius asked, turning to James.

“God, I wish,” James groaned. “I’ve to see Clarisse again.”

“Your granny?” Sirius confirmed.

James nodded. “Wait, you call your granny by her first name?” Marlene asked, slightly confused.

“It’s complicated,” James said quickly. “Apparently, dad says she’s wants to see me every day after school until she leaves.”

Sirius frowned. “When will that be?”

“I have no idea,” James sighed. “Look come over tonight at around six. I should be home today.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah,” James smiled softly.

* * *

James managed to catch a bus from the stop near the school that would take him close to the embassy without running, like he had been yesterday. On the bus, he put in earphones and attempted to get some homework done. Luckily the bus wasn’t too full, so he was able to spread out over two seats. It was still difficult to get things done, but James was determined to spend time with Sirius that evening.

A short while later, James scooped his books up and shoved them unceremoniously into his school bag and rose from his seat. He stepped out into the aisle of the bus and headed uncertainly to the top of the bus, trying not to trip as it continued to drive. It pulled into James’s stop, and he just had time to grab onto a pole before he went flying. As was typical Bus Éireann, he was fifteen minutes late, but it was still earlier than he had been yesterday.

James waited impatiently to be buzzed in. The way he saw it, the earlier they began, the earlier they would end. The gate finally clicked open, and James dashed across the concrete, careful not to step on the grass this time. He skidded into the hallway to see his grandmother, Remus and Frank waiting for him.

“James. You’re late,” Clarisse said disapprovingly.

“Sorry,” James huffed, slightly out of breath. “I took the bus.”

“Ah,” Frank, Remus and Clarisse said at the same time, understanding immediately.

“Well, no time to waste,” Clarisse said, clasping her hands together. “We have a special visitor in today. His name is Pierre and he will help you to look the part of prince.”

Behind Clarisse, Frank and Remus exchanged eye rolls, not easing James’s nerves at all. Two butlers opened the double doors at the end of the room and a large man, followed by two thin woman entered. The man was balding and short and had a face that reminded James slightly of a rat, though he would never voice this aloud. One of the women had rather large, black coiled hair and the other had bright blonde.

“Your Majesty. What an honour,” Pierre said, kissing the back of Clarisse’s hand several times.

“Thank you, yes,” Clarisse said, looking slightly flustered and not at all enjoying the defiling of her hand.

“These are my assistants, Bellatrix and Narcissa,” Pierre said, waving to the black and blonde haired women. “And where is the handsome prince that needs my guidance?”

“This is my grandson, James,” Clarisse said, beckoning to James.

Pierre turned to James and screamed. Like actually, out loud screamed, which did absolute _wonders_ for James’s self esteem. “Forgive me Majesty,” Pierre said in a fake-sounding French accent. “I just wasn’t expecting the hair- it is very large,” Pierre said, gesturing with his hands. James could hear Remus snort which his hastily turned into a cough. Frank, too, looked like he was holding back a laugh, and James could see the irony here. Pierre had very little hair, especially in comparison to James.

James nervously ran a hand through his hair and fiddled with his glasses. “My hair?” he asked nervously, pulling at the end of his sleeves.

“Yes,” Pierre said confidently. “It must go.” James gaped at him. “And the glasses, not in season,” Pierre continued, ignoring James. “And what is this outfit?”

“My uniform?” James asked, confused.

“It must all go,” Pierre said, clapping his hands.

“Yes, good,” Clarisse spoke up. “If you don’t mind, I have urgent matters to attend. I shall return in a few hours to be impressed.” James turned wildly to stare at his grandmother. She was hardly going to leave him alone with this psycho. “You two,” she said quietly to Remus and Frank, so Pierre couldn’t hear, “watch him like a hawk.”

Then they got started; Pierre began brushing James’s hair. But no matter how many times Pierre ran a comb through James’s curls, or how much product he put in James’s hair, the curls would spring back as if nothing had happened. Bellatrix and Narcissa worked at his nails, pushing back his cuticles and shaping his nails. James sort of zoned out, but he zoned straight back in when Pierre grabbed the glasses from his face and made to break them.

“What are you doing?” James garbled out.

“We got you contacts,” Pierre shrugged, “you don’t need these any more.”

“Doesn’t mean you can break them,” James said firmly, steadfastly ignoring Frank and Remus’s smothered giggled.

Pierre sighed and held them out. “Fine, but don’t put them on.” James rolled his eyes and shoved his glasses into the breast pocket of his school shirt. Now that they were off, he could only make out blurs of where the stylists were. “What to do with this hair?” Pierre muttered to himself.

James frowned, but didn’t say anything. He hadn’t even committed to being prince, but they still got to transform him into someone else. He hadn’t signed up for a make over and he didn’t _want_ a make over. But it was too late now; if he resisted, then he’d make a fool of himself- an even _bigger_ fool of himself.

James could just about make out that Pierre was running a comb through his hair, which was okay, until he pulled out a pair of scissors. James’s eyes widened, but he kept his mouth shut, fingers clenching the arms of his armchair.

* * *

When the beautification was over and James’s contacts were in place, it was on to clothes. James was passed a load of fancy pieces of fabric and was practically shoved behind the privacy screen that had been set up, before he could even make out what he was holding.

Once behind the screen, James got changed quickly, terrified that if he took too long, someone would pop around to check on him. There was no mirror behind the screen, so James couldn’t tell how he looked in his new clothes. He hadn’t been allowed to see his new look at _all_ , as they had removed the mirrors before handing him his contacts.

The outfit itself wasn’t as bad as it had looked bundled up in James’s arms. It was a dark blue suit with a matching tie and white shirt. They hadn’t given him shoes, which left James in his white socks, ruining the look slightly, but there wasn’t anything he could do about it. Taking a deep breath, James stepped out from behind the screen. He was taken aback when he found his grandmother had returned from her ‘urgent matters’. Everyone turned to stare at James as he made his way into the centre of the room, making him feel even more then he already was.

After a pause, Clarisse was the first to speak. “Perfect,” she said softly. That broke the spell of silence, leading to everyone talking at once; Frank and Remus between themselves, Pierre and his grandmother- even the assistants, Bellatrix and Narcissa were whispering to each other. James tuned them out and turned to look in the floor length mirror that had been brought in.

James stared. Staring back at him was a man he didn’t recognise. It was so strange seeing himself without glasses; made him feel bald. His hair was shorter than he had been in a while. He lifted a hand to run through, but his fingers just rested awkwardly on his head, his hair too short to be properly mussed. James had to admit that he liked the suit, but it was weird that _he_ was the one wearing it.

He looked like an entirely different person. James looked like- he looked like his father had done on his wedding day. The comparison hit James like a brick wall to his chest. He had stared at his parent’s wedding picture so often- as child, less so as a teen and then more often since his mother had passed.

He glanced back at the others to see that none of them were watching him, so he dashed over to his school pants and pulled out his phone. He couldn’t help but take a picture of himself in his new getup, if only to show his dad later. He pointed his phone camera at the mirror, so as to get the entire suit into the picture. He snapped it quickly and glanced at it to make sure it was clear. Then he shoved his phone into his suit pocket- something, he was sure, you weren’t supposed to do with a suit- and turned back to the adults.

James cleared his throat, drawing all eyes back onto him. “Can I get changed back into my uniform, or do I need to stay in the suit?”

“You can get changed,” Clarisse said softly, smiling at him, her eyes shining. James smiled back and walked quietly back to the screen, uncomfortable with all the eyes on him. Pierre and his assistants took this as their cue to leave, and they did so with many proclamations from Pierre about this being ‘his best work yet’.

“What do you think?” he heard his grandmother ask Frank and Remus. James frowned, wondering if the realised that the screen wasn’t soundproof.

“I’m not a fan of Pierre, but he did do a good job, to be fair to him,” Frank admitted.

“James looked regal,” Remus agreed.

“He looked like his father,” Clarisse replied, a faraway tone to her voice. And as James tightened and then slightly loosened his tie, he wondered if they were both thinking of the same picture.

“Was there anything else?” James asked as he stepped out from behind the screen once again. His watch told him that it was a lot later than he had anticipated, and he was eager to get back home.

“No, I think you’re finished for today,” his grandmother said kindly. James smiled back, and grabbed his bag, pulling on his jumper as he went.

“I’ll see ye tomorrow,” James called back as he left the room. He exited he building as swiftly as possible, worried he’d miss the next bus and have to wait an hour (or more, depending on how behind Bus Éireann were) for the one after it.

Luckily, James was only shivering for about five minutes before the bus arrived, near empty given the time. James sat down and quickly shot two quick texts to his dad and Sirius, explaining that he was on the bus and would be home soon. When that was done, James pulled out his maths book and copy and quickly finished the questions set for homework, anxious to actually spend some time with his best friend.

The bus ride wasn’t that long, but James felt it was the longest in the world. He was up and ready when the bus pulled into his stop and James practically leapt of the bus and ran home. He pulled open his front door and headed into the kitchen where he knew his dad and Sirius would be.

“James?” Sirius asked, half rising from his seat when James entered. “Did you get a _hair cut_?” James hand jumped to rest awkwardly on his head, panic settling into his stomach. “And are you wearing _contacts_? What is going on?”

* * *

**BIG ANNOUNCEMENT**

**Okay, so I really hate to do this, but I’m afraid that Stupid Cupid is going on a hiatus :(**

**I know it seems really weird considering that Stupid Cupid only has five chapters and hasn’t been uploading for long, but I promise I have a reason.**

**When I first got the idea for this story, I was really excited. I hadn’t read a Jily Princess Diaries AU where James was the prince. I couldn’t wait to write it and only planned about three chapters. I had a sort of rough idea, but it wasn’t nearly fleshed out. My plan was to write the fic in its entirety, before editing and uploading each chapter individually. I decided this because I have a history of abandoning fics and I didn’t want to feel that guilt.**

**I wrote the first chapter and got so impatient for validation or whatever that I jumped the gun and published the first chapter. And that was fine at first, but after a while, it’s been a struggle to write chapters. In my head I’ve placed a rule that I can’t write anything that isn’t Stupid Cupid.**

**As you might guess, this has put on a damper on my creative flow. I haven’t touched my WIP original novel and I haven’t just written anything for fun. And because of this, I began almost resenting Stupid Cupid. I didn’t want to write it, because it felt like an obligation.**

**This is why I’ve put it on a hiatus. Hopefully, I’ll feel free to mess around with other projects and have fun creating again. I do plan on finishing Stupid Cupid. I am not disregarding it completely. But for now, it’s been put on the back burner. I feel really bad about this, but I feel worse about leaving you without any updates at, like, months at a time with little to no explanation.**

**So yes. Stupid Cupid is currently on hold. But someday- hopefully sooner rather than later- I’ll continue the story, because I really want to. I really do.**

**I hope this makes sense and that there are no hard feeling.**

**Again, I’m really sorry,**

**Alice || thatsmyverb xxxx**

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you like that, and that I'll have the next chapter up soon xxxx


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